


To Be Proven Wrong

by geewritessometimes



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: BAMF James T. Kirk, Getting Together, M/M, Mind Meld, Protective Spock (Star Trek), T'hy'la, Touch Telepathy, Vulcan Culture, spock is in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:08:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22612315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geewritessometimes/pseuds/geewritessometimes
Summary: Spock needs more than a little convincing to join the Enterprise after the Narada incident. He's highly uncertain about his relationship with the Captain, who is supposed to be his dearest friend but is more akin to an awkward rival. However, as time goes on and he gets to know Kirk better and better, he starts to change his mind. He might be falling in love. Maybe.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 20
Kudos: 645





	To Be Proven Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place after the first alternate original series movie, kind of assumes the next two didn't happen lol. Who knows. Hope you enjoy!

Spock changed his mind about Kirk after the Narada episode, of course, but that didn’t necessarily mean a complete “180”, to use terminology that the Captain would likely employ. Spock Prime encouraged him to join the  _ Enterprise  _ on its new 5-year mission, and he certainly would not have been able to convince Spock if he hadn’t had at least a minor change of heart already, but the fact still remained that he needed some convincing. His changing perception of the Captain was only just enough to supercede the considerable awkwardness that he knew would undoubtedly be present on the bridge between himself and his former lover, Lieutenant Uhura. In other words, it was enough to make the awkwardness worthwhile, but only barely. 

_ I could not deprive you of the revelation of all that you could accomplish together, of a friendship that would define you both…  _ Spock was having trouble imagining himself and Jim Kirk, the Jim Kirk with whom he was acquainted, having the kind of relationship Spock Prime described. Respect had blossomed, but it was tempered by a more than healthy dose of skepticism. Kirk was still young, impulsive, wild, rebellious. Spock was not entirely certain he would be able to handle the more mundane aspects of command, or the consistent dedication that a 5-year mission would demand. But, he was willing to give it a chance. 

  
  


**Instinct**

Spock began to  _ really _ change his mind about a year in, on La’an. 

After a year in space, during which Starfleet had kept a tight leash on their youngest and most unpredictable captain, the  _ Enterprise  _ had finally been granted what Kirk called a “fun” mission. They were to make first contact with La’an, the only M-class planet in the unexplored La’abra system. Starfleet had shown evident reluctance in assigning the mission to Kirk, but the  _ Enterprise  _ was the only ship anywhere near the system, and it was only logical. All data on the planet evinced a simple and straightforward mission: the natives had just become warp-capable and appeared friendly, and the vegetation and wildlife was much like that of Earth. Lieutenant Uhura had not uncovered any outlandish social faux pas in her research, and predicted that the likelihood of the away team committing a cultural offense was low, being that the culture was so like Earth’s. In summation, it ought to have been easy. Spock’s only hint that things were not as they appeared came from Kirk himself, who would not stop frowning throughout the entire briefing. When it ended, Spock fell into step with Kirk in the hallway on the way to the bridge. 

“Captain, are you unwell?” Spock asked. 

He shook his head. “No, nothing like that, Spock. I just…” 

He stopped, and so Spock stopped too. Spock waited patiently for him to find his words. 

“Something’s just not right. I dunno what it is, but I have this uneasy feeling in my gut. I feel like we’re missing something here. Something just isn’t… Doesn’t _feel_ _right._ ” he gestured emphatically, though he kept his voice low for Spock’s ears only. 

“Perhaps some antacid tablets would help.” Spock suggested. 

Kirk groaned in frustration. “I’m serious, I’m not sick! Ugh… Just, just forget it. It’s probably nothing.” 

He waved his hand and began stalking away. Spock followed at a distance, confused by his captain’s erratic behavior. Later, he would regret not listening more genuinely. 

A few days later, Kirk, Spock, Uhura, and a small diplomatic team beamed to the surface after receiving a hail from the La’anites. The transporter placed them on the sidewalk of the central square, which was bordered by the office of the foreign ambassador. The streets were exactly like Terran roads: black asphalt, painted with white and yellow lines. There were even street lights in Terran style. Around them, pedestrians whirred by on Terran bicycles and rollerblades. A gas station with a flickering neon sign a block down winked at them. The team turned to observe the foreign ambassador’s office behind them, and it looked uncannily like a Terran skyscraper that one might see in New York, so much so that it gave Spock pause. Its design, the design of the entire city, was entirely incongruous with the fact that the La’anites had never before made contact with Earth. Spock shared a loaded glance with Kirk, who he sensed was thinking the same thing. The team entered the building, and approached a desk behind which sat a La’anite woman with scarlet red lipstick and curled blonde hair. She was dressed in perfect Terran business fashion, and if Spock did not know better, he would think she were human. 

“Oh, hello! Distinguished members of Starfleet! La’an welcomes you!” she greeted. She stood and shook Kirk’s hand. Her nails were red. “I’m Na’a. We’ve been expecting you. Lan is just finishing up a meeting, and then he’ll be ready to see you. I’ll show you up to the conference room so you don’t have to wait down here.”

Na’a stepped out from behind the desk and beckoned the team over to a wide elevator. Her heels clicked on the marble floor as she walked. The sound was too uncanny, and it made Spock uneasy. He shared another glance with Kirk, who for once was frowning in the presence of a beautiful humanoid. He didn’t have to touch him to sense that he was also feeling uneasy. 

Na’a took them up to the top floor and ushered them into the conference room. She produced a tray of drinks from somewhere and laid them on the table with a wink in Kirk’s direction. 

“If there’s anything you need while you wait, just buzz the front desk! I’m only a call away!” And then she left. 

The click of the door shutting eased Spock’s tension somewhat, and he exhaled. The similarity between La’an and Earth was indeed uncanny, but perhaps Spock was being unfair in jumping to conclusions. It would be no good to enter into significant diplomatic negotiations visibly tense and suspicious, and so he attempted to quell his anxieties and relax his shoulders. A huff from his left distracted him. 

“Guys, this is… This isn’t right. Something is wrong here.” Kirk whispered. His pretty blue eyes were wide and nervous.

“I admit, the aesthetic similarity between La’an and Earth also struck me when we first landed.” Spock conceded. “But we ought not act hastily or unfairly.” 

“Spock, I told you. I told you something was off about all this. What the hell is going on? I swear I’ve been inside this exact building before. This is more than coincidence.” 

“Captain, with all due respect, it isn’t impossible that a culture isolated from Earth would follow a similar developmental pattern, especially on a planet with vegetation and an atmosphere very similar to Earth’s.” Uhura interjected. 

“I know it’s  _ possible,  _ but…” Kirk cut himself off with a sigh. “Maybe I’m just crazy.” As if to reconcile himself with La’an in apology for his suspicion, he reached for a drink and took a sip. 

“Lieutenant, have you ever encountered other planets with significant aesthetic similarities to Earth?” Spock asked, attempting to gather a greater understanding of the possibility. 

“Not… not to this degree, I will admit, but there are many-”

She was interrupted by Kirk throwing his drink away from himself as if it had burned him. The glass shattered on the table, sending orange liquid and ice cubes everywhere. Spock, and everyone else, abruptly stood in surprise. 

“No, fuck this! That’s a goddamn Rattlesnake Bite and you can’t tell me it’s not! I would know that drink anywhere, I drank it every single day at the bar in my hometown!” 

Spock blinked, unsure of what to do, and watched as Kirk started backing up, glaring at the ceiling and the walls. 

“Hey! Game’s up! What the hell is going on here, huh?” he shouted into the air. “You’re not fooling anyone!” 

“Captain, cease your embarrassing-” Spock began to scold him, but then, the light in the room began to change. The fluorescent lights above them started flickering, and then, to Spock’s shock and fascination, began to fade away into nothing. In fact, everything around them rapidly began to fade away, until they were standing in the hurricane’s eye of a whirlwind of indistinguishable particles. He looked over at Kirk standing beside him in awe, and watched the wind whip his blonde hair around. He looked thrilled by his own discovery, and the triumph and excitement in his eyes made Spock’s heart feel strange. 

After a while, the whirlwind slowed and dissipated, and left the team standing in a cloud of dark pink among a cacophony of glittering lights. It looked absolutely nothing like anything Spock had ever seen before, and most certainly not Earth: the scene was reminiscent of observing the cloud layer from the vantage point of an airplane, if the clouds were colored a deep magenta and littered with stars and set against a stormy sky. Pink electricity cracked and thunder rolled somewhere in the distance. The wind had not abated, and it smelled alien and indescribable. 

“ _ James Tiberius Kirk, your fame is not undeserved.”  _ an echoing feminine voice came from the charged air around them. Kirk stepped forward, smirking.

“You did too good of a job on those drinks. Now I know who to call when I’m craving a Rattlesnake.” he replied, overflowing now with confidence. Spock could practically feel it. 

To everyone's surprise, the voice laughed. “ _ You honor us by uncovering our ruse. As a people, we value instinct above all else. It is the way we comprehend our world. To trust your intuition and act faithfully on it, despite the suspicions of your companions, is highly admirable. As such, we find you worthy of our friendship. La’an shall initiate friendly relations with Starfleet according to whatever terms you may elect to instate.”  _

It was then that Spock realized that the specks of light, which he’d thought comparable to stars, were the La’anites. 

“Starfleet would be honored to count such an ingenious people among its allies.” Kirk responded. The lights, the La’anites, around them glowed a warm and pleased pink in response to his words. 

When the negotiations were completed and the away team beamed back aboard the  _ Enterprise  _ (much more difficult than the beam down, since the aesthetic veneer veiling the real La’an had been repealed and the team’s location compromised), Spock found himself dwelling on the Captain’s actions. He’d known Kirk to rely on instinct in times of crisis, but the extent of his power was more remarkable than Spock had previously thought. It was incomprehensible to him, ran against all precepts of logic, and yet it was infallible. Jim was an enigma, a mysterious, exceptional enigma. Spock found himself wanting to know him better, to plumb the depths of that unusual mind. And he couldn’t expel from his memory the image of Jim, bright and wide-eyed and radiant, standing in the center of a pink whirlwind.

  
  


**Sacrifice**

Spock’s perception of the Captain changed even more after La’an. A few months later found them approaching something that could be termed “friendship”. They’d begun playing chess together every evening, and Spock found himself sharing things with Jim that he’d never shared with anyone before. He spoke to Jim about his childhood on Vulcan and his unusual heritage. Jim looked at him with such compassion when he spoke about his subjection to bullying at the hands of his full-blooded schoolmates that he burned with the force of it. In moments like that, he knew that if he were to touch Jim’s skin, he would ache from the strength of his emotion. When he told Jim about his refusal of the Vulcan Science Academy’s offer of admission, Jim laughed brightly. 

“See, we’re not so different after all, Spock. If a bunch of stuffy professors talked shit about  _ my _ mom, I would have spat in their faces and marched right out.” 

Spock was beginning to realize that Jim was right. They were more alike than they appeared on the surface. Jim’s rebelliousness was the product of his own uniqueness, just as Spock’s desperate desire to conform was a product of his. During one of their late-night talks, Jim jokingly termed them both “misfits”, and Spock was starting to think the title had merit. 

One day, Starfleet hailed the  _ Enterprise  _ with a new mission. Evidently, Jim’s success on La’an had convinced them that he was ready to handle more than just milk runs. He was tasked with extracting a Federation diplomat from the hands of the Ubu, a people originally believed to be peaceful, but demonstrated to be otherwise. The  _ Enterprise  _ headed for the system, and Jim sought to put together a small away team with combat capabilities. Accordingly, he selected Sulu and Spock to accompany him to the surface. 

The three of them beamed down into the prison complex that the diplomat, a Risan named Vi Dantu, was being held in. Almost as soon as they materialized, everything went awry. Squadrons of Ubu discovered them immediately, before they had a chance to find cover or move. They put up a valiant fight, but they were outnumbered, and soon found themselves in a jail cell alongside Dantu’s. 

“Some rescue team.” he’d grumbled as they were led in, arms crossed. 

“You’re welcome.” Jim bit back. 

Now, a whole day and a half had passed, and no help appeared to be coming from the  _ Enterprise.  _ Spock hypothesized that Ubu ships had intercepted it outside the planet’s atmosphere and attacked. How long it would be until the  _ Enterprise  _ was again capable of warping them back aboard was anyone’s guess, if they were so distracted. Jim, not a patient person, had been pacing back and forth for hours, kicking the single stone in their cell between his boots in a most obnoxious manner. 

“Captain, now is hardly the time for football.” Spock eventually snapped at him. 

“Yeah, where’s your brilliant plan, James Tiberius Kirk?” Dantu chimed in from the next cell over. “That fancy footwork won’t be any good to you when we’re all dead.” 

“I’m thinking, chill out.” Jim responded, voice distant and contemplative. 

He kept “thinking” until that evening, when the Ubu guards returned to the cells. They approached the bars. 

“The Federation didn’t care enough about  _ him  _ to grant us our ransom request,” he gestured to Dantu, “but maybe they will for you. Contact your superiors and make a plea on our behalf, and we will release you.” 

Jim raised an eyebrow and sauntered over to face the guard. “And what is your request?” 

“We have been at war with Qra for centuries. The toll it has taken on our people and our planet has been grave. Our mines are running dry, and soon we will no longer be able to sustain ourselves. We request that Starfleet rescind its alliance with Qra and fund our war efforts, so that this conflict may be put to rest once and for all.” The Ubu guard’s deep voice quivered with barely-restrained anger. 

Spock immediately seized Jim’s arm and pulled him to the back of the cell. 

“Captain, entertaining such a request would be highly immoral and simply impossible. Our research shows that not only are the Ubu mines not dry, but-”

“Most Ubu don’t want war, and the guerilla faction that just took over are pretty much the only ones responsible for it. And the Qra are being slaughtered mercilessly.  _ And  _ Starfleet policy is pretty uptight about negotiating with enemies at all. I  _ know _ .” 

Spock felt relief that Jim was on the same page and evidently more informed about the political situation than he anticipated. 

“I’m not giving them an inch. I’ve seen the footage of the Qra concentration camps. Don’t worry.” He patted Spock’s arm and sauntered back to the guard at the head of the cell. 

“So, I’ve had a good think about it.” he announced conversationally. “And I think you can shove that offer right up your ass. How about that?” 

The guard nodded tersely, and then they all left. Their behavior was most confusing to Spock, until another Ubu entered, this one decked out in all manner of torture devices. His heart plummeted, as he knew right away that Jim would bear the brunt of whatever he elected to dole out. He watched as the guard unloaded all his gear onto a table: spiked paddles on chains, brass knuckles, metal bats, whips… The thought of any of them being applied to Jim, his Jim, filled him with a deep-seated rage, and he couldn’t stop himself from pulling Jim back from the front of the cell, as if he could protect him somehow. The guard noticed his movements, and shouted something in Ubu down the hall. More guards entered, and they unlocked the cell. They were quick to seize Spock and wrestle him into spiked handcuffs. Almost as an afterthought, they cuffed Sulu too. Then they left. 

Once Spock and Sulu had been subdued, the guard entered the cell, though without any of his equipment. Jim faced him squarely. 

“Here’s the deal, pretty boy.” His voice was harsh and gravelly. “I’m going to beat the shit out of you. Sit still and I’ll leave your friends alone. Put up a fight and they’ll get it instead. What’s it gonna be?” 

Spock and Sulu immediately began protesting quite loudly, but Jim waved his hand to stop them. 

“You have my word, I won’t fight back. Just don’t touch them.” 

“Captain, Jim, do not do this, my superior Vulcan strength makes me a more suitable candidate-” 

“Spock, be quiet.” 

“Jim-”

“Spock.” He pinned Spock with a firm, uncompromising look. “I can’t watch you and Sulu get tortured. Please, don’t make me. I can’t.” 

Spock was speechless. Jim nodded to him once, and then turned back to face the guard. 

“Shirt off.” he commanded, and Jim complied, revealing his tan and mostly unblemished skin. Spock caught a glance of his delicate nipple as he moved, and for some reason, it made him sick to his stomach. Spock couldn’t stand the thought of the guard ripping up the soft flesh with those metal spikes. He watched, absolutely sick and furious and vengeful, as the guard leveled a solid punch to Jim’s sternum before going back to the table to grab a torture device. Jim hit the ground, wheezing and clutching his gut. 

The guard returned swinging the spiked paddle.  _ Not that, not that, please…  _ Some part of him held out hope that the guard wouldn’t really do it, but as he began rearing back and aiming it at Jim’s hunched back, Spock realized that it was real. He wanted to close his eyes, but he couldn’t. He watched unblinking and horrified as the guard brought the paddle down and tore into Jim’s skin, ripping an agonized scream from his throat. 

The sound made Spock set his jaw and coldly rip his hands through the spikes in his cuffs to free them. He felt the blood running, felt the deep nerve damage, but kept his face passive. Keeping his hands behind his back, he approached. The guard raised an eyebrow at him and paused, a bit confused. 

“I would advise against repeating your actions.” Spock warned dangerously. The guard scoffed, but before he could reply, Spock whipped the cuffs out from behind his back and struck him across the face with them, dropping him to the floor. He then pinched his neck to incapacitate him. His instincts were shouting at him to go further and rip the Ubu’s heart out for harming Jim, but he managed to restrain himself from utter, pre-Surak Vulcan barbarism. He simply stood over the immobile body, breathing heavily, until he felt a hand on his arm. The bursts of emotion he sensed through the fabric of his shirt were indistinguishable. It was Jim.

“Spock, your hands are really fucked up.” he whispered. He looked a little shocked by Spock’s savagery. Only then did Spock inspect the damage he’d done to himself. Huge, deep gashes cut through the flesh of his hands, down to the bone in some places, green blood gushing forth unabated and dripping onto the floor. 

“I am functional.” Spock replied. 

Jim laughed a little disbelievingly. “Spock, you’re really something else.” 

He began searching the guard’s belt for keys. Once he found them, he went to free Sulu. Spock wanted to examine the hallway to determine an escape route, but he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from the rent strips of flesh on Jim’s back and the thought that he’d taken them to spare Sulu and himself. The gashes were long but thankfully did not appear to be very deep. Thin rivers of red blood were trickling down into his pants, but they seemed to be abating already. He watched as Jim uncuffed Sulu and helped him to his feet. They both turned to look at him, questioningly, and then the three of them were shuffling into the hall. They unlocked Dantu’s cell and dragged him along as they stumbled through the corridors of the prison, entirely disoriented. Eventually, they happened upon a comm line hooked to the wall. Jim engaged it and hailed the  _ Enterprise  _ as the others kept watch. After a hushed command and a few seconds, they were beamed up.

Jim and Spock were immediately rushed to the Med Bay, where McCoy hurried to patch them both up with the dermal regenerator, amid expletives and exclamations of incredulity, directed mostly at Jim. The whole time, Spock could not stop thinking of Jim’s self-sacrifice, his instant acquiescence to the Ubu’s terms in order to spare Spock and Sulu. He hadn’t hesitated for even a second. A surge of admiration and affection swelled in Spock’s chest until it became difficult to tolerate, and he found himself longing to be the possessor of a selfless heart like that. How he ever operated under the impression that Jim was self-absorbed was now beyond him. 

  
  


**Compassion**

Ubu showed Spock that Jim’s emotional depths were indeed deep, and Vulcan curiosity (and perhaps a modicum of personal affection as well) drove him to explore those depths whenever possible. He observed the little moments: Jim noticing that one of the yeomen was walking stiffly on the bridge and offering her a quick shoulder massage; Jim spending hours of his scheduled off-duty time in engineering with Scotty learning how to repair the ship just for the sake of knowing; Jim quietly giving away the last of his protein nibs to Lieutenant Safaq on an away mission when he complained of hunger. The pride Spock felt in his captain, whom everyone (including himself) had doubted, was strong. He surprised himself with the realization that he desired to be in Jim’s presence at all hours of the day, even after they’d spent all of their shift together and the evening playing chess. And they did spend a lot of time together- the senior crew often joked about their being “attached at the hip”. 

Spock was treated to more evidence of Jim’s emotional range a few months after Ubu, when the Enterprise was sent to Psi Gamma, an M-Class planet which its inhabitants called Ha. It had been entirely ravaged by a civil war and ultra-rapid climate change thanks to the practices of the inhabitants, and there was little left of civilization. The remaining Ha had despondently contacted Starfleet asking for assistance in evacuating the few thousand who remained, before the global temperature reached an uninhabitable level. They were to be transported to a nearby sister planet and reestablished. The protocol was meant to be much the same as the evacuation and resettlement of Vulcan, and the similarities were glaringly obvious. Jim cursed Starfleet high and low for days after receiving the assignment. 

“I’ve seen some shit, but this has got to be the peak of Federation insensitivity. Did they just fucking forget about my First Officer _? _ ” Jim gestured angrily towards Spock for the benefit of the senior crew. “Forget that he’s a Vulcan, and had to fucking watch this same damn thing happen to his home world? Oh yeah, that’s a great idea! Send that guy to relive his memories out on Psi Gamma! Who gives a fuck about the mental wellbeing of our employees!” 

“Captain, I appreciate your concern, but I am capable of carrying out the duties of the assignment.” Spock replied politely. 

Later, after everyone else left the meeting room, Jim approached him. 

“Are you sure you’re okay, Spock? You can always sit this one out if you need to. Just say the word.” he said softly, laying a hand on Spock’s arm. The force of the compassion Spock sensed through his touch was staggering. 

“As I stated previously, I am functional. You need not worry. Your… concern and empathy give me great comfort.” 

Jim smiled at him. “Okay then. But if I catch you looking a little green around the gills, I’m sending you back to the ship. Got it?” 

“I am unfamiliar with that expression, but I understand your meaning.” 

A few days later, Jim, Spock, and an away team beamed down to the surface. Spock of course did not gasp, but his shock was considerable. The situation was significantly worse than they’d been led to believe. The Ha were a proud people, and evidently had been concealing the magnitude of the destruction. Jim had no such qualms about expressing his feelings, and Spock heard a gasp beside him. 

“Jesus  _ fuck… _ ”

The city was entirely razed to the ground and all of the surrounding vegetation for miles and miles had been scorched away. Only a few scrap-metal shanties remained among the towering piles of rubble and garbage. Dust blew through the remnants of what used to be the grandest city on Ha, taking with it all sorts of debris and filth. Littering the ground were thousands and thousands of dead bodies, all at varying stages of decay. The stench was remarkable. Spock immediately thought of Tarsus IV, and glanced at Jim beside him. His face was worryingly blank. 

“Well. Let’s go find someone to talk to, I guess.” Jim announced, clapping his hands to snap everyone out of their horrified stupor. Jim directed Sulu and Ensign Qa towards the west to search for their official correspondent, Ensigns Yama and Oyelowo north, and Lieutenants Illquro and J’ja south. He and Spock would search east. They started walking down what might have once been an avenue, which was now lined with corpses and rubble and dust. Spock waited until they’d left the others well behind, and then spoke. 

“Jim.”

Jim immediately looked up from staring at his feet. Spock never called him by his first name on missions. 

“What?” 

Spock stopped walking, and so Jim did too. 

“Are you alright?” Spock wasn’t sure how to broach the topic. Jim did it so effortlessly when speaking to Spock about the destruction of Vulcan, but Spock couldn’t seem to find the same ease. Thankfully, Jim seemed to understand what he was getting at. He sighed and offered a weak smile. 

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m ‘functional’, to use a word that a good friend of mine might.” he winked. “But  _ your concern and empathy give me great comfort _ .” 

Spock nodded, satisfied with the truth of Jim’s answer. They kept on walking. 

Eventually they reached another collection of shanties in the middle of a dusty clearing. It was utterly silent, no sign of inhabitants or wildlife anywhere. 

“Hello? Anyone out there?” Jim called, looking around. “We’re from Starfleet! We’re here to help!” 

For a long moment, there was no response, but then Spock noticed a small figure peeking out from behind a sheet of metal beside one of the shanties. 

“Captain.” he pointed. 

Jim noticed it too, and began to slowly approach. He held his hands up in a gesture of surrender and non-aggression. Spock followed at a distance. 

“Hey, we come in peace.” 

They eventually got close enough to realize that the figure was a child, a small humanoid girl. She was cowering behind the metal sheet, and only peeking out far enough to display her eyes and her forehead. There was a long red gash across it. Jim got closer. 

“Hey, what are you doing out here by yourself? Is your forehead hurting? We have bandages and stuff to fix it, if you want.” 

The girl ducked down behind the sheet when he stepped closer. Jim stopped a few feet back from her and sat down cross-legged in the dirt instead of continuing his approach. Spock was perplexed, but followed his lead. 

“Not coming any closer, see? Are you gonna come out or what? I promise I won’t move if you do. Not even an inch. Pinky-swear.”

A long silence followed, but then the girl peeked her head back out. She saw that Jim and Spock had stopped and sat down, and took a timid step out from behind the sheet. Her legs and arms were completely cut up and looked to be infected, and her clothes and hair were so dirty that it made Spock blink in shock. He could practically taste Jim’s heartache, but he kept his cool. 

“Oh man, those are some gnarly cuts. We have a dermal regenerator, if you want to use it. We can fix you up right away. Then those won’t hurt anymore.” Jim encouraged gently. The girl crossed her arms over herself and glanced back behind the sheet, but bravely came a bit closer. 

“It’s okay, we won’t hurt you. Promise. He looks scary, but he’s just a Vulcan. That’s the way he is.” 

The girl cracked the smallest smile. She finally came within reach of Jim, though she looked a little more wary of Spock. 

“Why don’t you sit down, and we can start working on those cuts.” Jim prompted. She obeyed, sitting down cross-legged across from him. Jim slowly took out his dermal regenerator and offered it to her. She touched it with a shaky hand, but didn’t take it from him. Instead, she offered him her right arm. Jim took her small hand and held it steady while he ran the regenerator very slowly over the army of slashes on her blue skin. She chewed on her lower lip and followed its movements very carefully with her large white eyes as he worked, until all the cuts had been sealed up. 

“All good? Should we do the other arm?” Jim asked. She nodded. 

After about thirty minutes, they’d patched up all the girl’s cuts and she was looking much more relaxed. Jim put away the regenerator. 

“Okay, all done.”

“Zenda.” the girl replied, pointing to herself. 

“Zenda? Your name is Zenda? That’s a nice name.” Jim said, grinning wide. “Do you wanna go find your family? Or we could go find some water to clean you up with?” 

Zenda shook her head. “My family is dead.” 

“Oh. Well, mine is too, so we’re in the same boat. Let’s go find water, then.” 

Spock could sense Jim’s grief at hearing Zenda’s admission, and admired his ability to keep a straight face and cheerful attitude. Zenda nodded and stood up, taking Jim’s hand and shaking it and using her other hand to point off into the distance. 

“There’s water over there.” she said quietly. 

“If you knew where water was, why didn’t you go take a bath yourself?” Jim teased softly as they began walking. 

“Too scary. There are dangerous men over there.” Zenda answered. 

Spock wasn’t even touching Jim and he could have staggered from the tangible force of Jim’s emotions. They shared a look, and Spock wordlessly readied his phaser. The sound of its charging startled Zenda, and she jumped and hid behind Jim. 

“Don’t worry, our big scary Vulcan is gonna use that to protect us from the dangerous men. He’s not gonna use it on you.” 

Zenda looked at the ground, and then up at Jim. “Up.” She extended her arms. 

Jim picked her up and settled her on one hip. Then they kept going. 

They reached the oasis around noon, and just as Zenda had warned them, there were some grizzled-looking men wandering around. They noticed them, and Spock’s phaser, and seemed to collectively agree to leave the odd trio alone. Jim washed Zenda’s hair with the Starfleet soap he had in his med pouch while Spock stood guard. 

“Why are his ears pointy?” Spock heard her whisper to Jim behind him. 

“All Vulcans have pointy ears. You know what else is cool about Vulcans? They can read your mind if they touch you. And they’re very very smart. One of the smartest species in the universe.” 

“He’s scary.”

“He seems scary at first, but he’s a big softie inside. You know how I know? His people had to leave their planet too a year or two ago, and here he is helping you guys do the same, even though he’s still sad about it.” 

Zenda didn’t say anything in return, but Spock felt her eyes on his back. 

They finished up, and began making their way back to the shanties. Zenda fell asleep in Jim’s arms as he carried her, head lolled on his shoulder. 

“She must be exhausted. Staying vigilant all the time, all by herself. This was me, all those years ago. Man.” Jim sighed. 

“Jim, perhaps we should rendezvous with the rest of the away team and determine if anyone has discovered the location of our correspondent. We cannot proceed with the evacuation without official Ha approval.” 

“Yeah, I know. I just… I hate to leave her behind. Don’t you wish you could be there for every single person, all at the same time? Alleviate everyone’s suffering all at once? That there was just something more you could do?” 

Spock stopped and, against his better judgement, placed a comforting hand on Jim’s free shoulder. The strength of the grief, compassion, love, and remorse flowing through him made Spock squeeze his eyes shut for a moment. 

“I grieve with thee, Jim.”

Jim placed his free hand over Spock’s and left it there for a while.

Jim insisted on bringing Zenda with them to meet up with the away team. Sulu and Ensign Qa had found a group of survivors who’d told them that the remaining Ha representatives had decided to simply flee the planet and abandon their people to their fate, and thereby abandon the Starfleet evacuation. Jim seethed. 

“How fucking  _ dare  _ they, how could you ever… I could just… Fucking  _ fuck.  _ Fuck!” He took a deep breath to calm himself, lest he wake Zenda. “Okay. Okay. So Plan B. There  _ are  _ no more official Ha reps, which means that, according to Starfleet code, we don’t have to defer to them for authorization. Let’s just green-light the evac and get started now. Those assholes aren’t coming back. I’ll explain the situation to the admirals.”

“But Captain, that rule only applies if all the representatives are dead.” Qa interjected. 

“Don’t give a fuck. They might as well be. I’m not leaving these people to die. Starfleet can suck it if they don’t like it. I’ll evacuate everyone myself on the  _ Enterprise  _ if I have to. Alright?” 

“Yes, Captain.”

“Good. Let’s beam back and hail the Evac Corps. I’ll report back to the admiralty after the evacuation starts, cuz I’m not taking any chances on them canceling it for some bullshit reason. Scotty?” he spoke into his communicator. “Nine to beam up.” 

“Captain, do you intend to take Zenda aboard?” Spock asked in surprise. 

They were already beginning to dematerialize as Jim answered. “Duh.” 

The evacuation began the next day, as the Corps were conveniently nearby and eager to help. Jim waited until a good number of Ha were off-world before making his report to the admirals. His bending of the rules was not so extreme, and so they were not more annoyed than usual by his behavior, and didn’t put up much of a fight to the evacuation. 

Jim gave Zenda a room adjacent to Med Bay and the Ensign quarters and a therapist who started seeing her right away (“I wouldn’t have turned out half so fucked up if someone had done that for me,” he explained to Spock). Spock approved of the decision wholeheartedly. He also gave her an Ensign caregiver to make sure she was healthy and happy, or at least as happy as she could be. Jim visited her every day, and often dragged Spock along. They taught her to play chess (Spock’s idea) and poker (Jim’s idea). The plan was to enroll her in the Academy on Earth once she was old enough (she would turn nine in a few months). Until then, she would remain aboard the  _ Enterprise.  _ She came out of her shyness and timidity remarkably quickly, and began having full conversations with not only Jim and Spock, but also other crew members. 

As Spock watched Jim teach her a Terran dance to Terran music in her quarters one evening, he was abruptly overwhelmed by the sensation of what could only be deemed love swelling in his chest, love for this illogical and passionate being with an unending store of compassion for all creatures everywhere. 

  
  


**Intelligence**

The months leading up to Zenda’s birthday passed quickly, and after throwing her a large party, Jim announced that the  _ Enterprise  _ would be taking two weeks of shore leave in San Francisco. They would drop her off at the Academy, and then any who wished could participate in the annual Physics Colloquium which was coincidentally taking place at the same time. Spock, of course, was planning on introducing and defending a thesis he’d written over the past few months, and Jim surprised him by announcing that he was planning on doing the same. 

“I was not aware that you had written any treatises this year.” 

Jim grinned at him over the chessboard. “Kept it a secret from you.”

“Why?” Spock asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Well, I guess it wasn’t really a secret. Or not exactly meant to be one. I just wrote something up in my free time after the whole Narada thing about red matter and black holes. I mentioned it to Pike a few weeks ago, and he asked to read it. He thought it was good enough to present at the P.C., and basically talked me into doing it.” Jim explained. 

“May I read it?” 

“Sure, if you want.”

And so Spock found himself for the rest of that evening reading a thesis on black hole thermodynamics and entropy which was even longer than his own, and even more eloquently written. He found himself in awe of Jim’s brilliance. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He’d known that Jim was clever, of course, but he’d evidently been keeping a vast intelligence under very tight wraps. Spock fingers, he was embarrassed to admit, tingled where they held the padd as he read. The theories Jim was putting forth were unheard of, even in the Vulcan Science Academy. Unprecedented, and superbly researched. And this, this marvel of scientific inquiry he’d referred to as “something he wrote up in his free time.” Spock was utterly dazzled. 

The following morning,  _ Enterprise  _ already en route to Earth, Spock joined Jim in the elevator to the bridge with a racing heart.

“Jim, I have finished reading your thesis.” he began, proverbially jumping with excitement. 

Jim looked nervous. “And?” 

His fears were utterly unfounded. “I find it highly innovative and convincing. Your exposition of the quantum states of the systems involved in black hole absorption is unprecedented. I must admit, I have never before read such a revolutionary account of the potentialities of quantum mechanical entanglement. I believe that this treatise may even transform the field of black hole physics.” 

“Wow, Spock. Thank you.” Jim looked relieved. “I just figured, you know, introducing the concept of red matter into the equation changes the game entirely. It rattled everything I already knew about entropy, and I just felt like-” 

“Indeed, red matter alters even our understanding of the formation of black holes. Your suggestion that black holes resulting of the dispersal of red matter potentially have different properties than those which form by other means is very-”

“Right?! Of course, experimenting with the idea is potentially dangerous as fuck, so it all has to be theoretical, but-” 

“True. I also very much agree with your point that although it has been well-established that quantum mechanical entanglement leads to a greater uncertainty about the quantum state of the involved systems, the laws of probability dictate that it is possible to predict the quantum state of the systems-” 

“And possibly determine what has become of them after the entanglement! The black hole is just a deformation of spacetime, and I really believe that, like the basics of quantum mechanics, it’s possible to physically test the state of the systems within it-”

“When probability fails to yield a definite answer.” 

“Yes! And that leads to practical possibilities- like what happened to Nero’s ship?”

“And the current quantum state of Vulcan.” 

Jim quirked his lips a bit. “Yes. And…”

“Your research paves the road to potential theory regarding the process by which the rupture of spacetime may be undone.” Spock finished reverently. 

Jim nodded. “I didn’t want to go that far in the actual treatise, but I left the door open. It’s a rupture in spacetime, but it’s still spacetime. The quantum systems exist within it  _ somewhere _ .”

It was so  _ Jim,  _ to infuse his theories with hope. It was so Jim that it made Spock’s heart ache in his side, with admiration, respect, and affection. His humbly hidden genius, applied to the question of finding Spock’s homeworld in the entropy of a black hole, was almost too much for Spock to bear in the moment. He suddenly found that he illogically desired to remain in the elevator for the entirety of their shift, alternately kissing Jim and applauding him for his astounding intellect. 

A pointed cough from somewhere to his left brought him out of his stupor. Spock realized then that the elevator door had been open for some time, and they’d been having this conversation in full view of the bridge crew. He straightened up and clasped his hands behind his back, slightly embarrassed at their being witness to his uncharacteristic enthusiasm. He exited the elevator, followed closely by Jim. They took their places, Spock at his station and Jim in the chair. The shift commenced as normal, but Spock still tingled from the excitement of sharing ideas with such an intelligent and formidable mind.  _ Jim’s  _ mind. More than ever before, he longed to see that mind for himself. He realized that he desperately desired a meld with Jim. Normally, the thought of melding with someone or even touching another being’s skin repulsed him, but when he imagined laying his hands on Jim… Pressing his fingers to the  _ psi  _ points on his temples… Being welcomed into the beauty of that mind… 

Spock took a fortifying breath and retrained his eyes on his monitor. It wouldn’t do to let his professionalism slip all because he talked for five minutes to Jim about black holes. He had a job to do, and he wouldn’t let his burgeoning feelings distract him. 

He felt ashamed of himself at the end of the shift when he reflected and realized that he’d only functioned at 76.5% capacity. He’d wasted an unspeakable amount of time stealing glances at the Captain over his shoulder. 

The  _ Enterprise  _ reached San Francisco the next afternoon. The crew disembarked and scattered, some into the city, some towards the Academy. Spock accompanied Jim, who was heading to the Academy hand-in-hand with Zenda. The class coordinators had been informed of her arrival, and a kind-looking woman met them at the gate of the Youth Facility. She greeted Zenda warmly, and informed her that they’d already prepared a room and a course schedule for her. Zenda appeared excited, but then turned to Jim with a slight frown.

“Will I ever see you again?” she asked, voice wavering. 

Jim smiled and patted her shoulder. “Course. I promise, whenever the  _ Enterprise  _ is in San Fran, I’ll come by and visit you.”

“Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise.” 

They performed that unusual Terran oath involving the clasping of pinky fingers, and then Jim hugged her. He stood, and Spock expected Zenda to turn and follow the guide, but she surprised him by running over and hugging him, too. Tentatively, he placed his arms around her. 

“Thank you for everything, scary Vulcan.” she said. 

“You are most welcome.”

And then she released him and joined the guide. She waved goodbye as they entered the complex, and Jim waved boisterously back. 

“Good luck! You’ll do great!” he called after her. 

“Bye!” 

And then she was gone. Jim heaved a sigh, and placed his hands on his hips. 

“Isn’t life strange, Spock? I feel like a dad sending his daughter off to college.” 

“The comparison is an apt one, Captain.” 

“I hope to god I’m doing the right thing.” 

“I do believe that you are.” Spock gently placed a hand on Jim’s shoulder. “Come. The Colloquium begins in 58 minutes, and we are a 23-minute walk from the Science Center.”

Spock was gratified to learn that his presentation had been scheduled for a different time slot than Jim’s, and so he was able to attend it. Whereas Jim had been tentative and wary at first of Spock’s reception of his thesis, he was pure confidence on the stage. He argued his theories as he did everything else: boldly and passionately, with utter surety. He presented his ideas in such a way as to generate hope in Spock, hope that one day it would be possible to physically investigate the contents of black holes and determine their quantum state: their physical arrangement, their level of entropy, their position in spacetime. Perhaps one day it would even be possible to determine the position of Vulcan in the space-time continuum. As he listened to Jim speak, a feeling of love and desire overtook him which was so arresting that for a moment, it felt unbearable. The revelation of Jim’s intelligence was new, but his infusion of it with characteristic optimism was as familiar to Spock as the halls of the  _ Enterprise.  _ It was utterly Jim. Utterly endearing. Utterly maddening. In his plastic seat, in Auditorium F in the Academy Science Center, on a sunny afternoon, Spock realized that he was passionately in love with Jim Kirk, and had been for some time. The revelation was not as shocking as it perhaps ought to have been; it seemed that Spock’s feelings had been growing steadily for quite a while. He accepted them with only slight resignation. It was only logical, after all. 

When he stood to clap at the end of the presentation, Jim’s gaze settled on him, and he smiled brightly. Spock longed to embrace him and kiss that smile. 

**Joy**

A little over two years into their five-year mission, Starfleet assigned them shore leave on New Vulcan. It was almost enough to make up for their insensitivity during the Ha episode. Spock was excited to go. He had not visited the new colony since Vulcan’s destruction, and longed to see his people and the planet. They were to be entertained in classic Vulcan fashion: classical music, traditional Vulcan dishes, and Vulcan dancing. Jim was surprisingly eager. 

“I can’t wait. It’s gonna be so fun. You know I know Vulcan traditional dance? I took an elective at the Academy on it.” he enthused to Spock one night over chess. 

“I was not aware. Your myriad talents continue to surprise me. It is fortunate, as any other style of dancing might be taken as rude at such a gathering.” 

“Mm. Well, won’t be a problem. For once it’ll be someone else committing a cultural offense.” 

“Trouble always seems to find you in some fashion, Jim. If not a cultural offense, an assassination attempt perhaps.” 

Jim laughed. “Very true. Good thing I have my big scary Vulcan to protect me.” 

“I suspect that you would have died much earlier into this mission if not for my presence on most away missions.” Spock moved his knight. 

“My hero.” Jim batted his eyelashes. 

The reception on New Vulcan was indeed grand. A high-ceilinged hall with tall, piercing stained windows had been decorated for the occasion: green vines interwoven with small white lights swept down from the ceiling; candles covered nearly every surface not prescribed for food; and earthy Vulcan incense burned from censors hanging on the walls. The dishes were extensive: Plomeek soup, Andronn feltara, B’lltarr, C’torr, candied favinits, filrak, soltar, gespar, kleetanta, M’lu, spicy T’mirak rice, yonsavas, and n’gaan shakes. The live music was already in full effect when the  _ Enterprise  _ crew arrived, and the singer, a young Vulcan woman, was crooning a soulful rendition of a pre-Surak love song. Spock had not experienced his own culture in so long that it all aroused a swell of emotion within him.

Jim must have noticed, because he leaned over and whispered, “Excited?” 

“Most certainly, Captain.” Spock replied. 

Their hosts announced their arrival to the already-gathered Vulcans with muted respect and politeness. 

“New Vulcan warmly welcomes Captain James Tiberius Kirk of the U.S.S  _ Enterprise _ and his first officer Vulcan S’chn T’gai Spock, and crew.” 

To his amusement and affection, Spock noticed Jim trying out his difficult-to-pronounce surname under his breath soon after the host’s greeting. The crew was ushered into the hall and towards the buffet tables. There was to be no sit-down meal; guests were to pick at whatever piqued their interest as they socialized and took in the music and decorations. Jim tugged on Spock’s sleeve and led him up to the table. 

“I don’t know what most of this stuff is. Will you guide me?” he asked. 

“Certainly, Captain. I believe you are already familiar with Plomeek and Plomeek soup.” He gestured and Jim nodded. “This is Andronn feltara. It is a grain dish not unlike oatmeal. It is seasoned with spice and milk. B’lltarr and C’torr are of a similar nature. These here are candied favinits, a particular favorite of mine.” 

Jim hummed. “You do have a sweet tooth.” He picked one up and examined it. The favinit was multipetaled and magenta, glittering with crystallized sugar. Jim took a bite and moaned softly. 

“Mm, so good!”

“I am pleased that you like it. These here are filrak, soltar, and gespar. They are all mild steamed vegetable dishes. This is M’lu, perhaps my favorite Vulcan dish. It is a soup made with noodles and favinit petals. These n’gaan shakes are also a favorite of mine. The n’gaan flavor is most certainly distinct from peppermint, but I have heard many humans describe it as similar. My mother was incapable of distinguishing between the two.” 

“Mint ice cream and flower soup, huh?”

“That is an unflattering description, Captain.” 

“Just trying to wrap my head around it all, Mr. Spock.” Jim winked at him. He picked up two small clay bowls of M’lu and handed one to Spock. “Let’s move closer to the singer. I wanna hear the music better.”

“As you wish, Captain.” 

They indeed moved closer, until they stood elbow to elbow at the front of the crowd that had gathered on the fringes of the dance floor in front of the stage. The singer was singing yet another pre-Surak love song, and Spock idly wondered at the motivation behind the music selection. He knew this particular song well, as it had been a favorite of his mother’s, and she often played it in the house when he was a child. He must have had a wistful look in his eye, because Jim leaned over between bites of his M’lu. 

“You know this one?”

“Yes, Captain. This song is an ancient love song called  _ Sukunyali.  _ My mother played it often.” 

Jim’s face softened. “What do the words mean?” 

Spock inclined his ear to the singer’s voice to catch the Vulcan words. Softly, he recited back to Jim, “ _ When I dream I watch you pass me by, on the stars that fill the sky. Perhaps you think I am in love with you, because I smile when your hands meet mine. Perhaps you are right.”  _

“That’s beautiful.” Jim whispered. His blue, blue eyes were bright and wide. “ _ I smile _ … Definitely a pre-Surak song, then.”

“Astute observation, Captain.” Spock replied dryly, though he was pleased that Jim was enjoying Vulcan music so much.

They continued to eat their M’lu in rapt silence, watching the singer and the band. The woman had her smooth black hair done up in the traditional fashion with three arching loops like a flower atop her head and adorned in strings of white stones. She wore a traditional dress as well, high-collared and sleeveless. Spock wondered if Jim found her beautiful, but when he looked over at him, his eyes were closed and he was bobbing his head along to the tune. 

The song eventually ended, and a servant came by to take their empty bowls. The singer began a new song, another old love song that Spock knew very well. This one was more upbeat and cheerful, more suited to Jim. As soon as it began, Spock noticed Jim perk up. 

“Ooh, what’s this one? Do you know it?” he asked eagerly. 

“Yes. This song is called  _ Iyo T’li.  _ It is another love song.” 

Jim swayed a bit, rapt, until he spun around and faced Spock. “Dance with me, Spock.” 

“Captain, I-”

“Aw come on! I won’t commit any cultural offenses, I promise! Please? Just one song?” He pinned Spock with those big, curious, joyful, vibrant blue eyes. Spock was powerless.

“Alright.” 

“Yes!” 

Jim took him into the group of people dancing in front of the stage and then turned to face him and raised his right hand so that his palm was facing Spock. Spock took up his position, mirroring his own palm about an inch away from the surface of Jim’s. He let his right hand hover just above Jim’s waist, and Jim let his free hand hover above Spock’s chest. 

“No hand-touchy. I remember. Don’t worry.” he whispered as they began to move in the four-step rotation. 

“The reason that your hands do not touch your partner during the course of the dance routine is-”

“Modesty, I know. Touch telepathy, kissing with hands, I get it.” 

Spock smirked. “Refraining from touch during the course of a dance also heightens anticipation.”

Jim blinked and grinned. “Wow, Spock. That’s hot.” 

Spock did not deign to reply, simply focused on guiding Jim through the steps. Though their palms hovered an inch apart from each other, he could still feel Jim’s vivacity and energy radiating in his own hand. It felt warm. It felt like pure joy. It made Spock want to press their hands together and tangle their fingers and wind an arm around Jim’s waist and kiss him in the human fashion. He felt his mental shields wavering. 

Jim sidled closer until their chests were pressed together. Without touching either hand to Spock’s body, he leaned up to whisper in his ear. 

“What do the words mean?” 

Spock forced himself to focus on the song. “ _ My t’hy’la, reside in my heart for eternity. When we touch I live forever, forever in the mind we share as one.”  _ The words felt heavy with emotion as he murmured them to Jim. Jim was looking at him with barely-muted awe and affection on his face. It was illogical to try to hide it, as Spock could feel it in the electricity crackling between their palms. 

“ _ I know your eyes in the morning sunlight. You are always here, here in this heart of mine.”  _ Spock couldn’t seem to stop the words from flowing out. His hand above Jim’s waist had drifted dangerously close to his body, and their upraised palms were micrometers away from touching. Jim’s full lips were parted, head tilted just so, and it would be so easy for Spock to lean down and kiss him. 

Spock twirled Jim on the next step, and then he was right back up against him. They swayed together, perfectly in sync as they always were, moving and functioning as one. Feeling Jim move with him, being there with him, knowing that he loved him, further lowered his inhibitions and mental shields. Spock ceased translating the Vulcan words and elected to softly sing them instead, low enough for Jim’s ears only. It made Jim blush pink and slide even closer. 

“Spock…” he breathed. “Gonna take a leap of faith here.” 

Spock blinked at him, and then felt the slightest brush of two fingers against his upraised hand. They retreated as quickly as they’d come, but through the fleeting contact, Spock was treated to a direct picture of Jim’s emotions. He was bursting with joy and love, love for  _ Spock.  _ Spock saw a flicker of himself through Jim’s eyes: solid, strong, a mind filled with hidden passion and beauty. Security, reliability, understanding, wild and fathomless love. Hot desire. Spock exhaled sharply. 

“ _ Jim _ .” 

He couldn’t restrain himself from seizing Jim’s elbow and pulling him off the dancefloor. He led him through the crowds and out into an empty corridor outside the main complex, all the while reading Jim’s confusion and fear through his touch. Spock would soon dispel those insecurities. He pulled Jim into an alcove and pushed him up against the wall. Jim gasped. 

“Jim, please allow me to share my thoughts with you.” Spock rasped out, fingers hovering shakily over the meld points on Jim’s face. Jim nodded, dumbfounded, and Spock initiated the meld he’d longed for for so long. 

Entering Jim’s mind was not unlike what he imagined flying into a star might feel like. Everything was bright and vibrant and chaotic, vibrating with joy and vivacity and intensity. He saw complex equations flying by, bright sunlight, cornfields, happiness, love, determination, stardust, laughter, yellow. Jim began timidly showing him memories, drawn from deep stores. He and Spock playing chess, standing back-to-back in the middle of a fight, Spock raising an eyebrow at him, an overwhelming sensation of love at the sight of Spock smiling. 

Spock offered his own emotions in return: his admiration of Jim, Jim’s instincts, sacrifices, compassion, intelligence, boundless joy, and hope. His desire to possess that unusual and enigmatic mind. His deep love, unlike anything he’d ever felt in his life, the understanding that they were t’hy’la. The feelings, when layered into Jim’s mind, set off riots of yellow bursts of joy like supernovas, and Spock thought he might combust with the brightness of it all. With a gasp, he released his fingers from the meld points and opened his eyes. 

“That is what you are to me, Jim.” he panted. 

Jim said nothing, just grabbed the front of Spock’s shirt and dragged him in for a passionate kiss. Spock clasped both of their hands together, drowning in sensation and yet also a sense of peace, peace in knowing that he and his t’hy’la had come together and would never again be separated by either distance or confusion. He pulled away in order to duck down and shower Jim’s throat with kisses, which seemed to inflame Jim, who moaned exuberantly. 

“Oh  _ god,  _ Spock, just take me already, I’ve been waiting for over two years!” 

Spock had already been teetering on the verge of a loss of composure for much of the evening, thanks to the romantic pre-Surak music and Jim’s perpetual proximity. Those words were the final straw. He bit into Jim’s neck (which elicited another even louder moan) and began ripping open the fastenings of Jim’s pants. Jim aided him by undoing Spock’s pants in return. Once that task had been completed, Spock roughly turned him around, so that Jim’s back was pressed against his chest. Jim braced his arms against the wall and shoved his hips back, and they grinded into each other, Spock’s arms winding around Jim’s waist possessively. He bent them both over so that he veritably draped himself over Jim, covering him, protecting him, shielding him. 

“I love you.” Jim panted. 

“And I love you, t’hy’la.” was Spock’s immediate reply. 

He entered Jim as gently as possible. Jim’s nails bit into the flesh of Spock’s forearms as he moaned and threw his head back onto Spock’s shoulder. 

“ _ Oh god.”  _

He did his best to reign in his strength with respect to Jim’s human physiology, but his success was embarrassingly limited. He couldn’t restrain himself from biting and sucking on Jim’s neck, squeezing his arms tight around Jim’s middle, thrusting hard enough to throw Jim’s whole body forward. Jim, however, did not voice any complaints. His moans and gasps only grew louder and more desperate, as his grip on Spock’s arms grew tighter. Soon, he was clenching around Spock in the telltale signs of imminent orgasm, and primal satisfaction drove Spock’s hands back up to Jim’s temples. This time, he didn’t even need to ask.

“ _ Yes,  _ fuck yes, please-” Jim gasped.

He initiated another meld, a deeper one this time, the meld of t’hy’la, inserting his own mind into Jim’s and mixing them until they were indistinguishable from each other. He felt Jim’s pleasure, Jim felt his. He heard Jim’s cries in his own head. Melting into a single being like nuclear fusion in the heart of a star,  _ parted from me and never parted, never and always touching and touched,  _ the passion, crescendoing up and up and up until-

They both came at the same time, eternally in sync. Spock broke the meld with a gasp and steadied himself by planting both hands on Jim’s bare hips and resting his forehead against the back of his neck. He listened to Jim’s ragged breaths. In the back of his head, he felt the thread of connection he’d just forged with Jim, the bond, and through it, he sensed Jim’s giddy pleasure. And then, his surprise as he explored his own end of the bond. 

“Wow.” Jim wheezed. A bubbly laugh. “Vulcans are the  _ best. _ ” 

“I am glad you think so.” 

  
  
  


And so, in the end, Spock Prime was right. In the course of about two years, Spock thoroughly compromised everything he thought he’d known about Jim Kirk, and discovered along the way a relationship which he knew to his very core would define him for the rest of his life. For perhaps the first time ever, he was glad to have been proven wrong. 

  
  
  
  



End file.
